I try avoiding emotions.
I'm a criminal,
and they're bounty hunters.

I fear my mind.

They chase me down.
Syrens echo from behind,
pinning down thoughts 
with "love" on their badges.

God forbade happiness.
I took a chance
and ran through the storm.
He threw lightning and fire down the road
but didn't stop me.
I said,"To hell with it";
the clouds finally parted
and bade,"Amen."

The sun was brighter.

I talk to an owl
who's more than a friend.
Our youth's gone with the wind.
He doesn't know how much this means.
Damn, it might be too late.

That never bothered him none.

Visions come and go
with Hollywood scandal and rumor.
And I envision peace
like the millenial I apparently am.
I ask myself,
"Who do I think I am?"

Another man gets shot
and services air on the news.
The uproar gets absurd.

We burn dinosaurs
and holes in Purgatory.
Now we live in digital Hell
but there's no place like home.

Confrontation takes zen
and throws it to the dogs.
It runs through my mind like,
"Who do you think you are?"
Must it come to this
every time I think?

My afflictions may never be heard.

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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